My Fair Lady
by stagetrinity
Summary: Helga has felt brushed off by Arnold, who has been too distracted with his new girlfriend to pay her attention. She thrusts her energy into directing the school play, waiting for some soft of contact. However, the apology she gets isn't what she thought.


I went back and fixed some typos here. Still don't know if this will stay a oneshot or not.

* * *

"Testing, check! Can you hear me?" Silence filled static. "Hello? You better respond when I'm talking to you, you jerk face!" the girl snapped, pressing the mike of the headset closer to her mouth as she barked orders. Sid was on the receiving end, in charge of the light and sound booth on the other end of the theatre. After a few more moments a crackly voice responded, "Hold your horses, geez. I'm working on it." As if to prove a point, the stage was flooded with light.

"Perfect," she said smugly, surveying the scene of her work. She slid the headset down from her ears, looking over the recently completed set. It was almost all entirely her work - the construction, the painting, the design. Sure, she had started the process with a stage crew, but her perfectionist mannerisms could only be taken for so long before she finally booted everyone off and slaved away her past weekends in the auditorium making the world of her (as well as Pygmalion's) imagination come to life on stage. She'd made the street scene, the study, and finally the ballroom had been the last thing to be completed. She'd had to borrow a few of the wood shop boys to make sure it was all actually sturdy as well as help get the flats together, but here it was. She was currently looking over her work on it now, feeling rather pleased with herself. Directing was a great channel for aggression as well as a welcome distraction to the trials of the past month and a half.

It wasn't like it was really any of her business whether Arnold had a girlfriend or not, or what they did on their dates. It's not like he was _expected_ to report back to her on his activities of the week. The fact that she and him had grown closer over the early awkward years of high school when Phoebe had moved straight into the upper grade classed and Gerald became more involved with sports really didn't mean anything, right? She blinked back into reality as she heard the cracking of her pencil. She blinked, dropping it in a waste basket she kept positioned near the front of the stage. It wasn't like she had even stood a chance.

"Sid, bring down the lights," she muttered, sliding the mike to her lips. "You can head out. I have a few more pieces to fix up before rehearsals tomorrow." The boy spoke an affirmative, and she switched off the headset, depositing it onto on of the seats in the front row. She pulled herself up onto the stage with ease, her lanky frame being stronger than it looked. She swung her legs over, brushing herself off as she stood and peered at the set with critical eyes. They were built on wheels, meaning there were two rolling pieces in all, with four backdrops in total. Placing her hands on her hips, she scanned the area once more. The stairs were sturdy, and the wall was a uniform color. Nothing out of the order.

"You've certainly been a pain in my ass," she muttered, shaking her blond pigtails. "But you look good." She nodded again, walking across the stage to access the prop room. Her boots were loud on the hollow wood, thudding solemnly. School was out for the day already, but the drama teacher had allowed her to hold the set of auditorium keys so she could come and go as she pleased. It was either her dedication or her violent manner that had prompted him to not hesitate to answer yes to the request. She'd been involved in the drama club since sophomore year when club day had the requirement every student do a minimum of at least one extracurricular. She'd remembered her play all these years ago, what with her food groups, and figured she'd give it another go. She mainly had focused in the technical aspect, but had lately spent the first part of senior year drafting some scripts and doing stage managing. She'd been the one to choose "My Fair Lady" as the show this go round, feeling a bit of a connection with Eliza. Of course, she hadn't had much to say on casting, and here they had Rhonda as the lead. They'd butted heads early on, but Helga had managed to get her authority translated across.

The girl pushed open the door to the prop room, peering at the shelves and totes of the collected props of years. There was another door off the prop room that led into the costume room, which was her destination of the moment. She sifted through the ring of keys and after a bit of testing, managed to get the door open. She needed a few more outfits for the extras, as well as the outfit for Henry. Immediately to her left were all of Eliza's costumes, including the ball gown for the second act. She'd admired it from the start and had always itched to just try it on, just once. Just to see. It had had a few tacks added to make it fit Rhonda's tall frame, but Helga herself was just as tall and thin, though not as endowed as her ebony haired friend. However, that wasn't why she was here today. She sighed deeply, tearing her eyes away and went past a few more racks to where the suits were store. She really wasn't looking forward to this at all. She had to get Henry into some suits for dress rehearsal. The role was being played by Eugene, who had managed to grow into his awkwardness and was actually quite talented. She was pulling a few of the shirts down as she heard a gentle knock at the door frame.

"Hey Helga, sorry I'm late. I tripped over the wires in the computer lap and I stayed to help clean up some of the damage."

Helga shook her head, smiling and rolling her eyes as she turned to look at the boy who flushing in the doorway. She immediately caught her breath.

"I hope it's alright I brought along Arnold," Eugene continued, gesturing to the boy standing beside him. "I had some trouble with my scooter and he promised to take me home."

"No problem" Helga managed to squeak out, fumbling to grab the clothes as they began to slip from her arms.

"Here, let me help you," the object of her affection said, quickly swooping down to scoop the pile of clothing from her jell-o arms.

"Not hanging with the little lady today?" she found herself saying, the words falling out before she could stop them. She immediately felt anger boiling inside her as he cast her a look of pity.

"Look, Helga-"

"Come on Eugene," she interrupted, tossing a pigtail over her shoulder. "Let's get you ready for dress rehearsal."

The boy nodded, smiling widely as he led the way to the tiny area that was used as a dressing room. She walked in first, laying the pieces on the small bench that was against the wall. She stepped out, nodding for Eugene to head in. He pulled the door shut behind him.

"I get the feeling you're upset me," Arnold muttered from beside her, jamming his hands into his pockets. Helga casually crossed hers across her chest, but didn't bother to look at him.

"What was the first clue?"

"You're being sarcastic with me."

"Oh, really?" she sighed, rolling her eyes. "Look, it's not like you just stopped talking to me and acted like I fell off the face of the earth because you found a piece of as Ass. Oh, wait- you did." She turned to glare at him, her lips pursed into a thin line.

His expression was one of hurt and a little confusion as he responded, "I - I didn't know it would bother you that much. I just thought-"

"Oh pray tell, what was this thought?"

He scowled, and expression usually foreign to him. "You don't have to be so hostile with me. I just figured you wouldn't want to keep talking to me. I mean, it was by some odd chance we fell into spending as much time with each other as we did. I didn't want you to feel like you had to put up with me anymore," he confessed, ending a bit sheepishly. "I didn't want you to feel like you had to baby-sit me because of Gerald and Phoebe."

The laugh ripped from her throat harshly. "Baby-sit? What are you even talking about? I-" she started, the words catching in her throat, forcing her to look down at the floor. "I actually liked hanging out with you, you know," she muttered, rubbing her arm as she confessed. "You may not have noticed," she said, giving a grin, "But I'm not exactly Miss Popular. People don't flock to me as they do to you."

"Catch more flies with honey," he joked, giving a half smile as he met her gaze.

"Yeah, well, I hate flies," she said with a shrug. Turned to the door, she raised her voice. "Hey Eugene, or you okay in there?"

"I'm fine-!"

Helga shook her hand, scuffing her foot on the already scuffed floor.

"Why haven't we already talked about this?" he asked suddenly, running his fingers through his hair as he so often did. "Figured out where we were going."

"It's not like we were on a one way road anyway. I was happy just being your friend," she lied through her teeth, feeling the little knot tighten in her stomach. She wanted to be so much more than that, had always wanted to be so much more. But she took what she could get, and she could have been happy just talking to him everyday. She had been happy with just that very thing.

"High school. It's hard. All those rumors," he said with a small laugh as he fiddled with the hem of his shirt. "Spend to much time with one girl and people start talking."

"Huh?"

"You didn't hear?" he asked, the smile on his face now humorous as well as pained. "People kept saying we were - you know - _friends."_

"Ohhhh," she mouthed the word slowly. "So people said we were fu-"

He shot a glare at her..

"Okay, okay," she conceded, holding her hands up in surrender. "Sex buddies, then. Friends with benefits. Make-out team. We were out making the beast with two backs."

She smiled as he laughed loudly, shaking his head. "Yes, more or less. Look, I know I shouldn't care what people think, but I really didn't want people to get that impression."

"I know. You have a reputation to watch."

"I was more worried about you," he corrected her, shaking his head. "So many people don't know you. At least not the real you. I know it's already our last year and everything, but I still didn't want you to have that following you around. I didn't want you have to have to have people whispering behind your back." Once again, he sheepishly shifted his weight on his feet.

"So what did you-?"

"I told people were just friends, but of course, no one believed me. It's hard when Rhonda is at the forefront of the gossip. So, I told her that.."

"I'm sorry, I didn't hear the end of that," she said, stepping closer. "You muttered."

She noted her boy looked extremely uncomfortable as he seemed to shuffle. "You really haven't heard?" he inquired, his voice seeming to strain.

She shook her head, her curiosity peaked. "Come on, Arnoldo. Spill it."

He took a deep breath, and in one fast breath managed, "I told Rhonda that we dated briefly. I thought maybe if _that_ got around instead, people would see you as a bit more approachable." He braced himself for a backlash, his shoulders raising to shield him.

"You did what?" she shrieked. She could almost feel the veins in her neck showing, her cheeks on fire. "Excuse me?"

"I just thought, you know, I had to protect your innocence?" The poor boy looked extremely embarrassed, like he would just sink into the floor.

"My innocence?" she laughed, the thoughts in her head speeding in endless loops and tangles. "That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard."

"I don't know what I was thinking. But I couldn't very well take it back."

Helga narrowed her eyes, muttering, "So that's why Rhonda was treating me differently."

"If anything, I'd hoped you'd get a few guys to show interest. I thought I was helping."

"I am very, very displeased. What am I supposed to tell people?"

"Nothing," he said as if it were obvious. "It doesn't look like anyone wanted to get close enough to tell you. But on the bright side, with a much less scandalous rumor going around, people seem to have let it drop."

She tucked some of her loose her back behind her ear, sighing. "Sometimes you're just an idiot."

"Can we still be friends?" he asked hopefully.

"I suppose so," she said as she rolled her eyes. "But friendship involves, you know, talking."

"I'm sorry about everything. Can I make it up to you?"

"It's going to take some convincing."

"I hear you're practically killing yourself with this show. Need a stage manager?"

"Hmm, I don't know. I don't really know who's qualified," she joked, playfully jabbing him in the shoulder.

"I'm sure I could find someone. After you, the word in the hall is that you're a much more approachable gal these days."

"And you're just stupider."

"That's not even-"

"Shush!"

"Whatever you say, Helga."


End file.
